


Sandstorm

by dieFabuliererin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Are we surprised they ended up in this state?, Crash Landing, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Obi-Wan has to rescue them, Of course Anakin buys a cheap ship and gets hurt when it inevitably crashes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dieFabuliererin/pseuds/dieFabuliererin
Summary: Ahsoka knows they're crashing.The first clue is that the controls are gone. Secondly, Anakin is swearing, and thirdly, Ahsoka has to clench her eyes closed to stop her breakfast from reappearing.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

Ahsoka knows they're crashing.

The first clue is that the controls are gone. Secondly, Anakin is swearing, and thirdly, Ahsoka has to clench her eyes closed to stop her breakfast from reappearing.

"Piece of shabla junk," Anakin hisses, his entire upper body buried under the console with his toolkit rattling beside him. A few more Huttese and Basic curses slip from his lips, "Keep her steady, Snips."

"I'm trying!" She grits her teeth, fighting to keep the rusty pile of bolts from flipping upside down as they spiral closer to the surface.

"Try harder." Anakin stands up, wiping grease off his forehead as he braces against her chair, "I don't have the N-84 servodriver to fix the console. How close are we from the surface?"

"Eight thousand feet," she replies, both curious and awe-struck at her calm her Master is whilst they are cutting through the atmosphere at lightning speed. It's a miracle they haven't combusted into a ball of flames yet. "There might be an N-84 in my satchel."

"Where's that?"

"Back cabin," she jumps as turbulence rocks the ship, nearly sending them careening down on a diagonal. She manages to stabilise the ship once more, "On the top shelf in the cupboard."

He claps her shoulder, "I'll be right back."

"Don't take too long," she mutters, half-serious and half-teasing. "We've got sixty seconds max until the ground hits us!"

She hears the door to the cockpit open as Anakin heads towards the back of the ship, "We'll catch fire _well_ before we crash."

"Brilliant," she says, focusing on her flying as Anakin searches for the servodriver. She _knew_ this ship would bring them bad luck, but Anakin _insisted_ on buying it because he knew the owner of the shipyard.

Ahsoka checks the scanner- one of the only things on this ship that still works. _Six thousand feet, five-and-a-half thousand feet, five thousand feet..._

"Found it, Master?" She shouts, turning her head away from the viewpoint for less than second.

That's all it takes.

Another pocket of air hits their ship, and the next thing Ahsoka knows, she's upside down. The scream is quite literally ripped from her lungs, and she thanks the Force for safety restraints or else she would've been-

_Anakin!_

She tugs the control around, trying to pull the ship around so it's at least on its side instead of top-down.

"Kriff, kriff, kriff," she mutters, trying her hardest to slow the rust-bucket down, but all it does it pick up speed, "Master, I need help!"

All she hears from the back cabin is a groan- he must've hit his head when the ship turned upside down- and then a bang as the ship's nose hits the surface.

They hit the ground hard, parts of the ship exploding as they plummet into the planet's surface. Ahsoka's nearly on her head, the safety belts pulled to their limits, and all she can do is close her eyes and pray to the Force that they won't be left as a pile of ashes.

The spinning stops, and the emergency alarm begins- red lights flashing. As soon as she establishes that she hasn't got any massively open wounds or any major broken bones, Ahsoka unbuckles her safety restraints and falls- with the grace of a drunk gundark- to the floor.

To her surprise, the cockpit is mostly intact. Granted, the console is smoking and sparking, but only two of the three glass panes that make up the viewpoint have shattered, leaving her to see what's outside.

First things first. Ahsoka switches off the engine. If there's a fuel leak- which there probably is- then they can't have any type of ignition.

It's a lot of sand.

Just sand, sand, and more sand. Ahsoka allows herself to quietly groan. Of all the places to crash land, they had to be on a sand planet? Anakin will _not_ like this.

Speaking of her Master...

Ahsoka staggers to her feet. It's a bit hard to become orientated- courtesy of the ship being on its side. The cockpit door splutters when she tries to open it, but it manages, and Ahsoka can just about crawl underneath.

The cabin has all but collapsed, the shelving units detached from their mounts and landing in a scattered heap. Blinking hard to fight off an impending headache, Ahsoka soon sees a head of scraggly, brown hair sticking out from underneath the bench.

She guesses the shipyard owner didn't even bother with safety checks before selling the ship to them, and Anakin was in too much of a hurry to do it himself.

Scurrying over the mess, Ahsoka starts pulling Anakin's shoulders so she can get a better look at him. It's clear he's unconscious, but her Master lets out a quiet groan when she shifts him onto her lap.

"Master? Anakin, can you hear me?" She demands, placing a hand on his forehead. There are a few bruises forming on his face, and the stickiness on her fingertips can only be blood.

Anakin moans, his eyes half-lidded. She can tell he's trying his hardest to wake up. "Snips...."

"Yeah, it's me," she sighs in relief that he can recognise her. "Anakin, does anything hurt?"

"Head..." He groans again, letting out a little cough, "Leg feels weird."

"Alright," Ahsoka looks to where his lower body is still tucked under the bench, pausing when she sees a dark liquid on the floor. "I'm gonna take a look at your leg, okay? Just bear with me."

Anakin lets out a little noise of acknowledgement whilst she puts his head back onto the floor. When she gets closer to his leg, she realises just how much blood is still flowing. _Not good._

The metal leg of the bench is sticking into his thigh. Blood is oozing out of the gaping wound, coating everything in the thick, red substance. Ahsoka resists the urge to gag as the metallic smell assaults her nostrils.

If she _ever_ sees that shipyard owner again, he'll have a lightsaber against his neck before he can say 'very cheap, good condition'.

Putting her frustration aside, Ahsoka takes a deep breath. She learnt long ago that panicking only makes these situations worse. Every time she gets injured, Anakin freaks out, which makes her panic as well. The medics- and Master Kenobi- have scolded Anakin for that several times, and Ahsoka intends to not pick up the bad habit.

Once she's collected, Ahsoka presses both hands to the wound, cupping the metal that's impaled his femur. Anakin isn't happy with the added pressure and lurches upwards, making a noise that's half-scream and half-sob, trying to push her hands away.

"Anakin, stay down! Master!" Ahsoka keeps her hands in place, pinning her lucid Master with a glare worthy of Mace Windu, "I need to stop the bleeding!"

"No, no! Hurts! Hurts, Soka!" Anakin still fights her, grasping at her shoulders hard enough to bruise. Ahsoka doesn't budge her grip on his leg, her panic rising as his sudden movement causes the bleeding to increase.

"Anakin." She snaps, managing to get his eyes on hers, "You're _bleeding_. Don't fight me, please!"

Whether it's her stern tone or the agonising pain, Anakin’s fighting grip on her slackens. Ahsoka turns her attention back to maintaining pressure on his thigh, trying to block out his whimpers.

She needs to make sure he doesn't bleed out. This ship probably doesn't have a medkit, and the ones that she and Anakin carry on their belts aren't equipped to deal with these types of injuries. He needs a medic.

Thankfully, they have some signal, and Obi-Wan picks up less than a second after Ahsoka dials his frequency.

_"Ahsoka?"_

"Master Kenobi," she sounds far too relieved, "We've had a bit of a problem."

There's an audible sigh from the end of the line, _"Where have you crashed?"_ He knows them too well.

"I'm not completely sure," she winces, "It's a sand planet, somewhere between the Batonn and Nuiri Sectors."

There's some muffled conversation before Obi-Wan answers, _"Cody says he's got a lock on your coordinates, but you're not exactly close by. How long can you hold out?"_ There's a distinct pause, _"Are you both alright?"_

Ahsoka chews her lip, glancing at Anakin's pale face. His eyes are closed, and if it weren't for the slight part of his mouth, she would be panicking. The bleeding isn't slowing down either.

"Anakin's in pretty bad shape." She admits, knowing Obi-Wan will understand the severity of the situation instantly, "His leg's bleeding- it’s not great."

Another sigh, _"Alright, Ahsoka, just... hold on until we get to you. Try to slow the bleeding and keep him awake."_

"Yes, Master," Ahsoka nods, even though Obi-Wan can't see her.

_"We'll be as fast as we can, little one. Call me if anything changes."_

He means, _call if Anakin stops breathing or goes into shock_ , but he doesn't need to say that out loud.

"We'll be waiting, Master."

_"May the Force be with you. Kenobi out."_

The commlink beeps to signify the end of the call. Ahsoka lets some of the weight lift off her shoulders, knowing Obi-Wan is on his way to help them. Whether it takes him minutes or hours, she still needs to keep Anakin alive until the medics can treat him.

"Hey," she lifts her eyes to where Anakin has the N-84 servodriver clutched in his hand, "found it."

"You did," she smiles, although his eyes are still closed, "I don't know why you were looking under the bench for it." Anakin's lips twitch in response, his sluggish brain trying to find a smart retort. "Obi-Wan and Cody are on their way."

"Brilliant," Anakin grumbles sarcastically, "I get to hear the _whole_ lecture about reckless spending."

"You deserve it." She teases back, inwardly relieved that he's speaking in coherent sentences. That's a good sign, and his speech will be a good measure of how he's doing without a medical scanner. "How do you feel?"

"Not my finest." Anakin peeps open one eyes, lifts his head just enough to look at her, "Unless you can find a tourniquet, you'll need to use my belt on my leg."

"I'd rather not," Ahsoka risks another glance at the bleeding wound beneath her hands, pleased to see it’s finally slowing down. "We can't have you losing _another_ limb."

"Suit yourself," Anakin drops his head again, "Better being an amputee than being dead."

Ahsoka presses her lips together. Really, she ought to use something to tourniquet his thigh, but she doesn't feel like she should be the one to make that decision. It would be really useful to have Kix or Coric here right now.

Eyeing up Anakin's outer tunic, Ahsoka thinks hard. Her first aid training is minimal at best, but she knows a few things. Wound dressings are practically impossible to mess up- or that's what Fives told her.

"Do I have a fever already?" Anakin asks when he feels Ahsoka tearing off strips of his outer tunic. His eyes are still closed, but all things considered, he doesn't look _terrible_.

"Not yet," Ahsoka replies, wrapping the fabric around the wound on his thigh, careful not to jolt the metal obstruction. She doesn't want to cause Anakin any unnecessary pain.

It takes a while, and it becomes a messy job, but Ahsoka's eventually satisfied. She just hopes none of the medics laugh at the way she's trying to stop Anakin's bleeding. It's not her fault that Coric's first aid training sessions are so boring that she can't pay attention, especially when she's sat between Torrent's token ARC troopers.

Echo listens intently, always making notes on a datapad, whereas Fives is just as ready to mess around as Ahsoka is, usually earning some sharp glares from Rex.

"That should hold it," Ahsoka sits back on her heels, sighing. Sweat's dripping down into her eyes- courtesy of the sun warming this gigantic metal box that they're sat in. She moves back to crouch by Anakin's head, tapping his cheek lightly, "Master?"

Anakin hums, opening both eyes, "Painkillers, Snips?"

"Sure," she finds the small pouch on her belt which holds her field medkit, taking out the silver packet. The painkillers are fairly standard- stronger than ones that can be bought over the counter, but not as heavy-duty as the ones carried by medics. She also has anti-shock meds.

"I'll grab my canteen," she stands, hovering over Anakin just to make sure nothing _immediately_ happens before she leaves. Her Master stays still, eyes closing softly again. He'll be alright, as long as he doesn't fall asleep.

Crawling back underneath the cockpit door, Ahsoka searches for the canteen. She hopes Obi-Wan doesn't take too long because she and Anakin only have half a litre of water between them, and she doesn't plan on trekking through the sand dunes to find more.

She can hear the wind clearer in the cockpit, which builds dread in Ahsoka's stomach. They'll be sitting tookas in a sandstorm, and Obi-Wan won't be able to send a transport down if there are strong winds.

It’s best to be optimistic for now.

Collecting her canteen, Ahsoka starts crawling back under the door when the Force sends a white-hot warning.

The door drops suddenly, forcing her down to the ground with a pinning weight around her chest. Ahsoka can only gasp, completely winded and feeling paralysed as the metal slams down onto her ribs, making them crack, and then-

The door stops moving.

Ahsoka looks up, her body shaking in pain. Anakin's tilted his head back, eyes narrowed, and hand outstretched towards her. He's holding the door up from the Force, stopping it from crushing her small body completely.

"Move," he tells her through gritted teeth, "I can't hold it like this."


	2. Chapter 2

Ahsoka has to crawl out from underneath the collapsing sheet of metal.

Her breaths are short, laboured, and she knows that the door has done some damage. Nausea sweeps through her, and for a fleeting second, she thinks she'll pass out before she can get through to the back cabin, and when Anakin can't hold the door up, it'll cut her clean in half.

The sight of one of her shinies sawed in half after being run over by a Separatist tank flickers through her mind, and that gives Ahsoka the motivation to push through the agony. It wouldn’t be fair for Obi-Wan to lose two Padawans in one day, and who would look after the 501st?

She's still dizzy with pain, but she can just about sit upright once she’s clear of the door, leaning on her hands and knees whilst taking slow, deep breaths.

_Kriff, that hurt._

The door makes a loud bang as it slams shut- Anakin's strength failing.

She puts a hand to her side and instantly regrets it, feeling searing pain through her chest. She's broken ribs before, and this sensation is even worse. Her chest feels even worse than it did after being shot three times and having to be resuscitated a few months ago.

If she survived that, she’ll curse herself for not surviving this.

Ahsoka coughs once, winces sourly, and then spits blood onto the floor. _Not good at all._

"Are you okay?" Anakin asks, still watching her with concern laced in his eyes. He pushes himself onto his elbows, and for a moment, he looks like he's about to crawl over.

"I'm fine." Ahsoka rasps, expelling some of the pain into the Force before moving back to Anakin. She feels too weak to stand right now. "Let's get some drugs in you."

She places one arm around Anakin's shoulders to help him sit upright, muttering curses in her mind at the pain it causes her. Forcing a smile for her Master, she passes him two of the white pills- one for the pain and one for the shock- and helps him swallow them with some sips of water.

Whilst he's distracted, she takes her own dose of painkillers- dry. They have enough painkillers for the two of them, but not enough water.

"Have some more," she prompts Anakin, lifting the canteen to his lips once more and ignoring the pain that laces through her side.

“We ought to save what we have,” Anakin argues, pushing her away.

"We should check your leg." She says, ignoring his protest and moving just enough so she can observe the wound without Anakin seeing the blistering pain on her face. The fabric seems to be holding the bleeding back- _for now_. That's a big relief.

"How long is Obi-Wan going to be?" Anakin asks, leaning back down again. It's clear his injuries have taken their toll- it's unusual for him to start asking about the rescue party so early.

"Hopefully not too long," Ahsoka sighs, crouching forwards so her ribs hurt less. "How are you holding up?"

She looks over at Anakin when he doesn't respond, and a surge of adrenaline passes floods her system when his eyelids don't twitch. She puts a hand on his forehead- notes that he feels warm. “Master?"

He just hums, not opening his eyes. Ahsoka furrows her eye markings and taps his cheek briskly, "Hey! Open your eyes, lazybones."

"Tired..." he groans, still refusing to follow her order, "Wanna sleep."

"You can sleep later." She puts the pad of her thumb under his eyebrow and pulls upward, forcing his eyes to open despite his groan of protest, "After you see the medics. Come on, Master; you know the rules."

He lets out a very childish sigh before opening both eyes, "You're gonna have to keep me awake then." He pauses, "Do you feel that?"

She nods, also sensing the warnings in the Force, "It's a sandstorm."

Anakin groans once again, " _Sand_?"

"Yes," she huffs, "The wind is already picking up."

"We'll need to gain some height," Anakin states, already trying to push himself upright again, even when Ahsoka pushes her forearm to his chest. There's blatant fear in his eyes- probably from his childhood on Tatooine where sandstorms would erase entire villages.

"Hang on, Master, we can worry about that later," he's still adamant about sitting up, so Ahsoka supports his back.

"No, Snips, we need to worry _now_." He's frantic, panicking, "You haven't seen what those storms can do- _I have_. If we don't find shelter, we'll _die_."

His eyes land on the metal bench leg still pinning him down, and before Ahsoka can stop him, Anakin stretches out a hand. The bench gets pulled upwards, taking Anakin's leg with it, and the scream he lets out is blood-curdling.

"Whoa, _whoa_!" Ahsoka scrambles forwards, pushing Anakin's hand down whilst grabbing the bench, jerking it back to the floor, "That's _not_ how this is going to work, Master!"

Anakin slumps back to the ground, wheezing and groaning like a dying man. Ahsoka pushes her own pain away once more, focusing on applying pressure to the wound which is now pouring out blood- a result of the makeshift dressing and impaled object being disturbed.

"You're an idiot, Master," she grumbles under her breath, taking off her belt with one hand. She didn't want to do this, but there's no other choice.

Anakin was right: _it’s_ _better being an amputee than being dead._

When she tightens the belt around his thigh, Anakin jerks to the side, vomiting instantly from the pain. He's semi-conscious now, and Ahsoka doesn't know how bad that is whilst he's suffering from severe blood loss and a head injury. She wonders if she should call Obi-Wan again, but decides that getting the bleeding under control is a priority.

"I'm nearly done, Master," she tries to reassure him, but all he does is dry heave. His condition is starting to scare her a lot, and with her own condition getting worse with every breath, she doesn’t know how much longer they can hold out.

It's not like Anakin has never been hurt like this before, but usually, the _Resolute_ picks them up within minutes, or someone else- with a bit more medical knowledge- is with them. One time they crash landed, Ahsoka was the one in bad shape, and Anakin knew what he was doing in regard to splinting her broken arm and stemming the bleeding of her lekku.

Now, it’s him who’s hurt, and she’s clueless.

"There," Ahsoka pulls back once the belt is in place, massively relieved that it's slowed the bleeding. Hopefully, the medics can whip Anakin off to the operating theatre and fix him up in no time, and then she can sleep.

Maybe they can save his leg.

Anakin's completely unconscious, his head twisted to the side. Ahsoka flinches when she sees blood in his vomit- _of course_ , there has to be. Internal bleeding was basically predictable.

She dials Obi-Wan's frequency, hyper-aware that the winds are getting much faster. She doesn't know how much time they have until the storm hits them.

_"Ahsoka... hear me?"_

"Master Kenobi?" _Brilliant_. The signal is going. "How long are you going to be? Anakin can't hold out for much longer."

There's static- a few garbled words that Ahsoka can't make out- and then the line goes completely dead. Ahsoka groans at their bad luck, clutching the commlink in her fist. It’s useless to them now.

Anakin's unconscious, she can't contact Obi-Wan, and every breath feels like someone is hitting her bare lung with a bat wrapped in barbed wire.

Exhausted and afraid, Ahsoka pulls her cloak towards her with the Force, wraps it around Anakin's shoulders as best as she can. The winds are picking up, and with the amount of blood he's losing through the hole in his leg, she knows staying warm is critical.

After ensuring his teeth stop chattering, Ahsoka slumps against the side of the ship. Her breaths are short, laboured. She needs rest as much as they need to be rescued. Leaning her head against the metal, Ahsoka allows her eyes to close- just for a minute.

* * *

A minute- when she opens her eyes next- appears to be several hours.

It's spookily dark, and Anakin is either asleep or unconscious, but he’s still breathing, and that’s the main thing. Force, she wishes Coric were here.

Ahsoka cracks her neck, wincing as she's painfully reminded of the situation her ribs are in. Every time she exhales, something rattles. When she breathes in, she can hear her chest bubbling and gurgling. That’s really, _really_ not good.

She doubts Anakin feels any better.

Then, as if things couldn't get any worse, Ahsoka hears the sand start to hit the side of the ship as the storm picks up. She's close to tears at this point. Anakin said they need to reach high ground, but where will they go? It's not like they know where they are.

She looks at Anakin. His chest is rising and falling unsteadily. How much longer can he last without medical attention?

Not long enough to wait out a storm.

"Force, give me strength." Ahsoka staggers to her feet, gasping at the strain on her ribs. She finds the goggles that she always carries on her belt, puts them on.

Igniting her lightsaber, Ahsoka cuts the metal shaft impaled in Anakin's leg away from the rest of the bench. There's no point making extra work for herself by taking both her Master _and_ the bench with her.

Besides a pitiful whimper, Anakin’s silent as she heaves the bench away, having to take a moment afterwards to use the Force to ease her breathing.

Anakin's heavier than she remembers. Rex said that adrenaline can give someone super strength, which explains why it's so easy to toss a clone or her Master over her shoulder on a battlefield, but it's a lot different like this.

Not only is Anakin heavy, but he's also long and lanky. Her knees threaten to buckle once she lifts him completely off the ground, and the pressure it puts on her already sore chest is almost enough to make Ahsoka cry.

“Hurry up, Obi-Wan,” she whispers, her voice shaking.

She breaks through the hull of the ship with her lightsaber- not trusting the ramp to work. Her only regret is opening the ship in the direction of the wind, receiving a mouthful of sand, and having her skin assaulted with the pellets of grit.

It’s pitch black outside, her eyes take a moment to adjust from the red emergency lighting inside the ship. Thank the Force she’s a Togruta, or else she’d been completely blind in this weather.

Her survival training is a bit more advanced than her medical training, but it's still not as good as Rex's. He would probably tell her to stay put to avoid getting lost, but Anakin won't survive if she doesn't find better shelter or civilisation.

Walking through the storm feels like she's getting sandpapered alive, and with Anakin over her shoulder, every step is more difficult than the last. She just hopes he isn't aware enough to freak out. She could do without the six-feet and one-hundred-and-seventy pounds of man over her shoulder trying to wrestle her to the ground.

As she takes another step, her knee twists painfully, and Ahsoka and Anakin are sent tumbling onto the sand. Pain rockets up her leg, but in the grand scheme of things, it goes ignored. Ahsoka spits the grit out of her mouth, eyes clenched shut as the wind whips around them. Anakin lets out a groan of pain, but he doesn't stir.

 _Gotta keep going, kid_ , she hears Rex's voice in her head, _you're dead if you stop._

Shrugging Anakin off her shoulders, Ahsoka staggers upright. She feels like death. With every breath, she feels like less oxygen is getting to her lungs, and her knee is aching something fierce to accompany the growing headache.

She starts to pull Anakin along the sand. It gives her face some shelter from the wind, but the strain on her ribs is so agonising that she fears she'll be sick in Anakin's hair if she doesn't bite her tongue hard enough to taste blood.

Then, just as she thinks she's going to collapse for a second time, she sees a glowing figure up ahead. Thinking the desert is making her go crazy, Ahsoka blinks hard. When she opens her eyes again, she sees someone who died.

Master Qui-Gon.

 _Kriffing Force tricks_ , she thinks to herself as the blueish ghost floats closer. She ought to reach for her lightsaber, or shield Anakin’s body with her own, but all Ahsoka does is stay put, staring at Obi-Wan’s deceased Master.

He’s not as old as she expected him to look. All she’s seen is pictures, and Obi-Wan and Anakin steer clear of telling her too much about the man who took her Master to the Temple. The only thing she knows is that he _shouldn’t_ be here.

“Ahsoka.” His voice is soft, gentle, warming Ahsoka like a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her grip on Anakin tightens when Qui-Gon outstretches a hand, “Come, child.”

She shakes her head, too afraid to speak. The wind is so strong- it’s hard to stay upright. It feels as if the sand is rubbing her skin raw, and her body aches _so_ much.

“Young one,” Qui-Gon gets close enough to touch her cheek, but he doesn’t. His expression is somewhere between tender and concerned, like a parent nursing their sick child. “You can trust me.”

His outstretched hand is almost glowing, and Ahsoka feels a surge through her chest. There’s an unfamiliar presence in her head, which makes her turn away sharply. She hates Jedi who don’t ask before prodding around her thoughts.

Qui-Gon’s fingers brush her side, right where the pain is radiating from. He doesn’t apply any pressure, but Ahsoka still hisses from the contact. Anakin’s still slumped in the sand, and he’s starting to pale faster than before.

When Ahsoka feels her knees buckle for a second time, arms swoop down to catch her. She’s too weak to protest or fight. She just tightens her grip on Anakin and burrows her face into his chest to shield her eyes, praying their bodies won’t be buried so deep that Obi-Wan can’t find them.


End file.
